


The Let Out

by sonofnjobu



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Clubbing, F/M, Jidenna, The Let Out, fatphobia, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofnjobu/pseuds/sonofnjobu
Summary: You've got a thing going on with Erik Stevens. It doesn't have a title and you're not sure where it's going, but you notice a change in his attitude when he's around his boys.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request by curl-and-crosses:
> 
> "You know I'm here for all fics, especially the ones that have a beautiful, chubby/plus size black girl as the reader. So I'm requesting one in which Erik likes the reader but he's worried about what people will say since he's only dated thinner girls before. He really likes the reader though and decides ask her out... maybe?"
> 
> \--
> 
> Here you go! This many not be exactly what you expected, but I think you’ll love it anyways.
> 
> A/N: Don’t take any shit from these boys, baby. Named after Jidenna’s song “The Let Out.”
> 
> CW: Clubbing. N-word use. Implied fatphobia.
> 
> Reader is Black and Plus Size. If you enjoy my writing, please comment.

You and four of your closest girl friends crowded around the mirror and clamored for space on the bathroom counter. You had just finished laying your edges, momentarily stowing them away under a silk scarf. Reaching for your collection of lipsticks, you collided with your girl Shania.

“Hoe, why are you even in here?” you questioned her. Shania was fully dressed and ready to go, haphazardly swiping through Tinder and taking up space.

“I like to be involved,” she replied distractedly, not looking up from her screen.

“You can be involved outside of the bathroom. Go put on some music or something!” you huffed, swatching some colors on the back of your hand.

Shania sucked her teeth and pressed her phone to her chest before worming her way through the group of girls. Moments after she left, you hear faint orchestral tones and the telling, “Cash Money Records taking over for the 99 and the 2000!”

A collective “Ayyy!” reverberated against the bathroom walls, and all makeup progress came to an abrupt halt. The small space was suddenly a dance floor and the counter a support as the girls leaned against it and threw their hips in circles.

The chime of your phone was lost in the din, but you saw it light up out of the corner of your eye. You snatched it up and clicked it open. A smile spread across your face as you read the short message.

“You coming out tonight?”

You hadn’t even begun to respond when your girl Alayia gasped from over your shoulder.

“Erik? As in THE Erik Stevens?” she demanded, widening her eyes. She stared at you intently with her half-baked face.

“You’re nosey as hell, you know that?” you bit back, trying to conceal your dopey grin.

Yes, Erik Stevens. The two of you’d been partnered up on a project in class, and even after you secured the grade, he kept coming around. Many late nights were spent just talking or working your way through Living Single. He’d show up with pizza and make himself at home, your thighs pressed up against one another on your bed. Something was definitely there, but you weren’t sure what.

You didn’t want to jump the gun though. You’d wait to define anything. He was a pretty big deal on campus, with beautiful women falling all over him at every turn. The men were equally enthralled with Erik’s mystery, and he was rarely seen without a large group of his boys around him.

You angled the screen away from Alayia, who had returned to her twerking and baking combo, and tapped out a quick response.

“Yeah. We’ll be there around 11:30.”

The three little dots bounced on the screen for a moment. Your phone vibrated quickly in your hand.

“Bet.”

–

You strolled in to the function feeling like the baddest bitch in town. Entourage in toe, you immediately headed to the dance floor. The bass thumped through your chest and the thick heat of the club filled your lungs. You felt free as you danced away the stresses of the week.

Your eyes flitted around the dark club, scanning faces during intermittent flashes of colored light. Erik said he would be here, but you didn’t see him. You’d been there for about an hour before you found him.

He was leaning against the bar, and as usual was surrounded his homeboys and a few thirsty women. He wore a simple grey tee and his short dreads were expertly braided back. You wondered briefly who had done it for him before waving away any jealousy.

“Erik!” you called from the dance floor. He didn’t hear you above the music and you weren’t surprised. He continued to laugh with his friends, his strong jaw flexing when he smiled.

You began to weave your way in between the mass of sweaty bodies, carefully stepping across a mine field of spilled drinks and exposed toes. You were halfway to him when you called out his name again.

Erik heard you this time, and his eyes met yours. You smiled and waved, but his face remained stoic. You couldn’t tell if he was just looking past you or… no. He definitely was looking right at you before he turned back to his boys, resuming the conversation with them.

Your face screwed up in confusion and you closed the gap between you and the possé.

“Ayy! Y/N! What’s good, Ma?” Erik’s friends greeted you. You endured some sweaty one-armed hugs from the group.

“You drinkin? Whatchu want?” his friend DJ asked, cocking his head towards the bar. You glanced at Erik. He quickly looked you up and down, but said nothing.

You accepted a shot from DJ.

“Anything for the homie!” he grinned.

You didn’t haunt the group too long. If Erik didn’t want to talk to you, you weren’t going to force him. You clapped DJ on the back, thanking him for the drink, and headed back out to dance with your girls.

The awkward encounter quickly left your mind as you danced to Afrobeats. You attracted the attention of some tall, fine brotha, and you allowed him to dance with you for a while. You whined against him, reveling in the feeling of his strong hands on your hips. You bent over, sensually swiveling your ass on the way back up.

You could feel Erik watching you from the bar. You flipped your hair to the side and met his gaze, still grinding in to the man behind you. Erik’s dark eyes bore in to you and his chin was slightly raised. Was that jealousy on his face?

Your phone vibrated in your bra. You slid it out carefully, never breaking step.

“Meet me at the let out.”

You glanced back at Erik. His eyes raked over your frame and a sly grin curled at the edges of his mouth.

What was he playing at?

–

The club let out a little before 2 am. Raucous party goers spilled out in to the parking lot. Most women carried their heels in their hands, taking their chances barefoot on the asphalt. Some people partnered off, disappearing in to the night. Others seemed intent on continuing the party, opening their doors and pumping music out of their car speakers.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Erik posted up against his car. You stepped away from your girls for a moment to approach him.

“Where you going looking fine as hell?” Erik purred at you. You looked at him incredulously.

“Depends,” you reply. “Oh whether or not you want to acknowledge me now?”

Erik shook his head, looking at his feet for a moment.

“Yeah, sorry about that. The club’s really not my scene. I can’t function in there. Too many people.”

You considered this for a moment before deciding to forgive him. Partying’s not for everyone. Things were better with him one on one anyways.

You shivered against the night air, your strappy dress not providing much of a barrier to the elements. Erik eyed the bumps raising on your skin and reached in to his back seat. He handed you his black sweatshirt without a second thought.

“Are you hungry?” you asked as you slipped on the offering. It smelled of him. Like sandalwood.

Erik suggested the late night pizza place around the corner. It was thin pizza that you felt tasted like cardboard, but it would more than do after a night of drinking and dancing. You told your friends to go on ahead and left with Erik.

“GET THE DICK, BITCH!” Alayia screamed from the street corner.

–

The two of you had ordered more pizza than you could handle, precariously balancing it on a small table in the corner of the shop. Erik had insisted you sit there instead of the booth, citing his need to see the door wherever he sat. The two of you laughed and chewed away, the tensions of earlier completely melted away. The conversation quickly devolved to flirting. Erik’s palm ran up your thigh and his gold canines gleamed as he smirked at you.

“So what’s a nigga got to do to suffocate between these thick ass thighs?” he inquired.

You parted your legs ever so slightly, giving him more access to the soft flesh.

“It’s a good way to die,” you hummed. Erik’s eyes lit up at the prospect. You challenged him with your gaze.

The bell above the door tinkled and a flood of men entered the small shop.

“Erik! My nigga!” DJ called from the front of the hoard. Erik snatched his hand from your leg and turned to his friends. You watched quietly, piecing together the events of the night as the men joked.

Having acquired their post-club snack, the group filtered out of the shop. Erik finally turned back to you.

“What was that?” you ask, careful not to sound obsessive.

“What was what?” Erik replied.

“That!” you reiterate. “And earlier in the club. Why are you different with me whenever your boys come around? What’s going on?”

Erik waved his hands in front of his chest and shook his head.

“Nah, it’s not even like that.” 

You didn’t believe him. 

“I just don’t want them all up in our business, ya know?”

You hummed your disbelief.

“I just don’t need them saying anything,” he continued. You stayed silent, one eyebrow raised. “You’re the first big girl I’ve messed with and I don’t need those niggas commentary.” Erik shoveled more pizza in to his mouth.

Your face fell. There it is.

You gathered up your phone, keys, and purse. Erik looked confused as you stood up.

“You know,” you mused. “I really thought you were smarter than that.”

He stopped chewing, suddenly aware of what he’d done wrong. The concern crept up on his face.

“I didn’t think you were a fucking cliché,” you continued, quickly calling an Uber. “I’m not the fat girl to fuck in private but not be loved in public.” Erik attempted to interrupt, to apologize. It wasn’t what he meant, you were sure he would say. But this wasn’t new to you. Whether he meant well or not, you didn’t have the time for it.

“Call me when you grow the fuck up,” you spat before stepping out in to the night.

Erik sat alone at the rickety table, realizing that he’d hurt you.

“Fuck,” he whispered.


	2. The Let Out Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik tries to make it up to you after royally fucking up at the club last weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my writing, please comment.

You checked your phone for the zillionth time that hour.

 

Nothing.

 

“Stupid. Stupid!” you whispered to yourself, trying desperately to pay attention to the task ahead of you. You drummed your fingers against the desk of the Student Activities Center and clicked through a few files on the computer before unconsciously checking your phone again.

 

Nothing.

 

You slammed it face down on your desk and groaned.

 

The one student sleeping in a beanbag chair stirred a little.

 

Today was slow, and your obsessive opening and closing of your messages app wasn’t making it any faster. Hardly anyone had come in to the SAC this morning because it was pouring buckets outside.

 

The rain rhythmically thrummed against the window pane, and the bean bag student began to lightly snore once more. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled somewhere far away a few seconds later. Normally, monotonous din like this helped you focus and work, but your mind was still consumed with Erik.

 

Stupid Erik Stevens.

 

Stupid stupid, you.

 

Stupid.

 

It had been two days since you’d left him in that pizza parlor and he hadn’t tried to reach out to you even once. Like, really? Were you that easy for him to just throw away?

 

You’d hoped that with the arrival of Monday, you could go to your work study job and your classes and finally think about something other than him, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

 

You vacillated between cussing him out and chastising yourself for falling for a fuck boy. You’d heard what all the other girls on campus said about Erik Stevens. But for some reason you had convinced yourself you were special? All because you’d worked on an assignment together and watched some Hulu in your bed while eating pizza?

 

STUPID!

 

You found yourself clicking on to his Facebook profile yet again. He hadn’t updated since early Saturday evening. He’d been tagged in a photo with all of his boys that he seemed desperate to hide you from.

 

You scoffed. You’d been uploading pictures from that night periodically over the weekend. You wanted him to see how happy you were without him… living your damn life. Looking fine as hell too.

 

Ugh, this was embarrassing. How’d you let this nigga in your head?

 

In your heart.

 

Sleeping bean bag kid be dammed. You needed something to occupy your mind. You exed out of Facebook and went in search of Drake’s new album. You’d heard there were two sides and that was more than enough music to get you through this shift without obsessing anymore over stupid Erik Stevens.

 

You’d barely started the first track when a soaking wet delivery guy pushed through the front door and stumbled in to the center. He teetered up to you, carrying an oversized, gaudy bouquet of pink roses. He plunked them on to the desk, rain droplets cascading all over your phone and keyboard.

 

“Are you Y/N?” he asked gruffly, pushing the soaked curls plastered to his forehead out of his eyes.

 

You eyed him suspiciously from around the vase.

 

“Yes. But I’m confused. We don’t have an event today. We didn’t order any flowers,” you insisted.

 

“Lady,” the guy started. You glared at him. He was probably only two years younger than you at best. “I just deliver the flowers okay. Just sign for them. They’re freshly watered.”

 

He pushed a pad at you, and you scribbled something resembling a signature. He tucked the device back in his rain coat pocket and started out the door. He was halfway out the door when he turned suddenly.

 

“Right right. I almost forgot.” He plopped a slightly crushed heart shaped box of chocolates next to the roses and a small, water logged card.

 

“Merigold’s wishes you a merry merry day, or whatever,” he grumbled, heading back out in to the storm.

 

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself.

You peeled open what was left of the card’s envelope and read the short message.

 

_“I’m sorry_

_Mr. Cliché”_

Your heart skipped a beat.

 

Was he really doing this? Or was this some sort of cruel joke? You elected not to overthink it and instead stood from your desk to smell the flowers. They were excessive, but gorgeous.

 

**_Bzz bzz._ **

****

Your phone vibrated on the desk and you snatched it up so fast, it almost hurt. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and you clicked it open.

 

 **“Hoe, are you even alive??? I haven’t see you since the club,”** Shania’s message read.

 

You exhaled, shaking your head at how silly you were being. You told her to meet you at the SAC. You had something to show her.

 

\--

 

 

“Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch!” Shania squealed as she entered the student center. “He is trying to WIFE YOU! Look at my baby! I am so proud. YES!”

 

She shook out her umbrella as she shouted. Bean bag kid glared at her and shifted loudly. Shania turned on him with the quickness.

 

“This isn’t your damn house! Go home! Who takes their shoes off in a public place? Nasty.” She shook her umbrella a bit closer to him as she passed and the kid pulled his un-shoed feet up against his body.

 

“Flowers AND chocolates?!” Shania gasped. “And it isn’t even Valentine’s Day!” She leaned forward over the front desk and barely lowered her voice.

 

“Did you get the dick Saturday night?” she inquired. You waved your hands to shush her. Bean bag kid didn’t need to know you like that.

 

“No, I went home after we went to get pizza cause…” you began. Shania interrupted you with an overly excited, not-quiet-at-all stage whisper.

 

“He’s doing all this AND you haven’t even given him the pussy yet? YES, GIRL! YESSSSSS!”

 

You stared at her with wide eyes.

 

“Why are you like this?” you murmured. You snatched the chocolates back from Shania who had already pinched half of them to check the fillings. You stashed them in your bag and gingerly tucked the note in your wallet.

 

“I’ll tell you everything on the way to class,” you promised, clocking out of your shift and cautiously lifting the bouquet. Why Erik would gift you something this cumbersome on a rainy day like this, you’d never understand. But you couldn’t help the stupid smile that stretched across your face as you clutched the vase.

 

Stupid.

 

You filled Shania in on the weekend as the two of your sloshed your way to class. You were thankful for her company because you’d be shaking with nerves otherwise. This was the class you and Erik shared, and it was the first time you’d see him since Saturday night’s debacle.

 

But Erik didn’t show up.

 

He’d never missed a class to date. Why today? Maybe he was sick. You bounced your legs and glanced at the door every few seconds. You didn’t hear a word your professor said.

 

You’d finally gotten your focus back on track when the classroom door opened and four men swooped in.

 

“Is there a Y/N here?” one of them called to the lecture hall. You looked wildly to your professor who seemed suspiciously unsurprised by the interruption.

 

“SHE’S RIGHT HERE!!!” Shania yelled, pointing at you. She scrambled to get out her phone to record whatever was about to happen.

 

The men moved to stand in front of your desk and you shrunk back. What was this? Were you about to be kidnapped? They definitely weren’t strippers.

 

“This is courtesy of Erik Stevens, aka ‘Mr. Cliché,’” the leader announced. “1,2,3,4…”

 

Your cheeks burned a hot red as the four men burst in to an A Capella rendition of Usher’s “Caught Up.”

 

Shania screamed in delight and broadcasted straight to Facebook Live. Comments and likes poured in as the singing troupe danced around you and crooned in your ear.

 

“Until I met this girl who turned the tables around.

She caught me by surprise.

I never thought I’d be the one breaking down.

I can’t figure it out, why I’m so caught up!”

 

You sat, opened mouth as they finished to thunderous applause. Shania cackled and zoomed in on your face.

 

Without missing a beat, your professor returned to his lecture as the singers exited stage left. You definitely weren’t going to hear a word he said now.

 

\--

 

You splashed your way back to your dorm. You could feel your phone blowing up in your pocket from Facebook comments, messages, and texts. You didn’t dare check it for fear of dropping the enormous bouquet and honestly, you weren’t sure if you could handle any more surprises.

 

You hoofed it up the stairs and made your way to your room. Despite having been rained on all day, you were dreaming of a nice hot shower. You stopped suddenly when you noticed something propped up against your door. You approached with caution.

 

It was a life sized teddy bear.

 

“Oh my god,” you groaned. You eyed the red bow around its neck and the giant tag which read:

 

“To, Y/N

From, Mr. Cliché”

 

You laughed to yourself and shifted the vase of flowers to your hip. You reached down to pick up the teddy bear when it suddenly reached back to you.

 

You screamed and dropped the vase. It shattered on the ground and you fell backwards on to the floor, slicing your hand open.

 

“JESUS FUCK!” you yelled.

 

The teddy bear fumbled with its stubby hands to remove its head and out popped Erik, gasping for breath.

 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” Erik apologized. He wiggled himself out of the bear, stuffing mixing with glass shards all over the floor.

 

You clutched your hand and glared at him. He reached down to help you up but you just kicked your leg at him. He laughed, his stupid gold caps glinting as he did so. His stupid gorgeous face looking down at you with a mix of concern and amusement.

 

Stupid.

 

“STUPID!” you yelled. “God, Erik.”

 

You rolled a bit, gaining momentum to hoist yourself up. He helped you even though you didn’t want it.

 

“What is all of this? You don’t talk to me for two days and then you do all of this?” you questioned him, blood pouring out of your palm.

 

“Well,” he shrugged. “I realized you were right. I was wrong and I’m a cliché. So I ran with it.”

 

You continued to glare at him, though at this point you were only pretending to be mad. He continued.

 

“I have no right to hide a girl like you. You deserve to live out loud, not in the dark. And I’m sorry. So I planned all this out over the last two days. So I could properly ask you on a date.”

 

Your heart jumped again.

 

“Obviously, I’m not very good at it,” he mumbled, gesturing to the pile of roses, fluff, and glass serving as your new doormat.

 

“Does the emergency room count as a first date?” you asked. The blood pooling in your hand was about to spill over and add to the mess on the floor.

 

Erik suddenly seemed to realize he’d been monologue while you were bleeding.

 

“Oh fuck. Yeah. Let’s go!” He ripped off the sleeve of his shirt and wrapped your hand as tightly as he could.

 

“You know,” he laughed. “I could carry you all the way to the ER screaming your name like in those movies if we want to keep the cliché thing going.”

 

You snorted. “Or just to your car?”

 

He grabbed you and hoisted you up bridal style. You were taken aback by how strong he was. No one had ever picked you up before. He took off running down the hall.

 

“Y/N!” he yelled dramatically as you laughed and clutched on to his neck.

 

“YYYYYYY/NNNNNNN!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Most likely going to continue this one.


End file.
